Hypnotherapy
by musapan
Summary: Dr. Hannibal Lecter has helped Will Graham deal with the grisly nature of his everyday life, but it hasn't been enough to squash the monsters. Dr. Lecter recommends hypnotherapy- behavior modification through suggestive hypnosis. But this new kind of therapy soon becomes something that Will didn't anticipate, and something that he can no longer live without.
1. Chapter 1

"Doesn't the familiarity ruin the illusion, doctor?" the dark-haired man said with a hint of playful sarcasm. The corners of Hannibal Lecter's lips twitched into a smile. "It's more akin to meditation or reading a good book than anything else. No illusions or swinging pocket-watches here, Will. And the familiarity, yours and mine, should not affect the exercise at all. " he said in a low, comforting voice that always had an odd way of putting Will at ease. Will Graham took a deep breath, let it out, and then nodded to Hannibal. "Okay, I'm ready."

The two men sat in the office of Dr. Hannibal Lecter, the curtains drawn, the office darker than usual. Morning light filtered through the curtains, creating a soft, lazy atmosphere. This was intentional. The patient sat across from the doctor in a chair against the protests of Hannibal, who had ensured William that the couch would be easier-and safer- to use for this exercise, but Will wasn't interested. The chair was good enough.

"Of course you are," Hannibal said amusingly. His dark eyes found Will's, and he narrowed his gaze. "This will be quite simple. Just relax yourself. Every muscle in your body. Let them rest. I want you to take slow, deep breaths. Each breath brings you closer and closer to complete relaxation. Allow all the thoughts to dissolve, and leave your mind as quietly as possible." Will scoffed softly, and Hannibal smiled again. "It's only difficult if you imagine it to be. Even people with thoughts as dark and vivid as you and I can sometimes find peace in the emptiness of our minds."

Will's expression softened and became almost melancholy, but he nodded as if to say, 'I will try' and took another deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment to concentrate. He opened them again looking almost lost, and Hannibal knew he was almost there. "Now Will, I'm going to count backwards from ten. Every number I count, it will become harder and harder for you to keep your eyes open. You will find yourself slipping closer and closer to a restful, dreamless sleep. When I count to one, you will be asleep."

The profiler met Hannibal's eyes again, a flicker of uncertainty behind his bright blue irises, but he pressed his lips together in a nervous but obedient manner that caused Hannibal to inwardly shiver in anticipation for what was being given to him.

"Focus on the sound of my voice and nothing else. Ten. Nine. Your eyelids are heavy. It would be easier to close them."

William's eyelids fluttered, and the man's gaze fell to his lap, as if he was confused. Or scared. Those two emotions often went hand-in-hand.

"Eight. Seven. Six. Your mind is now teetering on the edge of a beautiful unconsciousness. Don't be afraid, let yourself fall in. I will be there to catch you."

Eyes closed, and his head drooped a bit. He caught himself, but just barely. His eyes were still open, but only by a sliver.

"Five. Four. Three. The empty space in your mind is being filled with the unconscious. You are so very close to sleep, and as soon as I count all the way down, William, you will be there."

Will didn't seem aware of anything anymore, and he seemed unable to focus his gaze.

"...Two. ...One." As if by an unseen force, Will's eyes closed and his head drooped slightly again, but this time he was asleep. Hannibal allowed himself a moment to gaze at Will's sleeping, defenseless form. His breathing was so calm, his expression so tranquil. Hannibal marveled at the sight for a moment, savoring it was if it was a bite of delectable food. The fact that Will trusted him so much, as to lower all of his defenses in his presence... It was delightful in a way previously unknown to Dr. Lecter.

"William." Hannibal cooed in a questing tone. There was a small pause before Will issued a 'Hm' sort of sound. "Can you hear me?" the doctor continued. "Yes," came Will's immediate reply. His voice was devoid of it's usual defenses and emotions. He had allowed Hannibal into the forts of his mind. The possibilities were tantalizing.

"I'm going to ask you some questions, Will. I would like you to answer me as honestly as you are able. Can you do that?"

"Yes."

"When was the last time you engaged in sexual intercourse?" came Hannibal's first question. Under normal circumstances, the bluntness of this incredibly personal question would have had Will putting up every defense and avoidance in the book, but today, William was the insect that had been put to rest by the venom of the spider, all wrapped up in webbing and waiting obediently to be devoured.

"Four years ago. July."

"Who was she?" Hannibal asked interestedly.

"My last girlfriend. We were together for six months before we couldn't anymore."

"Couldn't what?"

"Couldn't be together." Will said emotionlessly. Hannibal perked a brow.

"She didn't understand you," the doctor surmised out loud.

"Didn't like my line of work. Or me."

"Do you relieve your sexual tension in other ways?" Hannibal asked, criss-crossing his fingers and resting his hands in his lap.

Will was silent, as if he wasn't sure how to answer.

"Do you masturbate, Will." Hannibal re-phrased.

"I can't," the profiler responded.

Hannibal tilted his head slightly. "You can't bring yourself to, because of your imagination."

"Yes."

"Whenever you close your eyes, begin to focus, touch yourself... You see those images. You see the bodies and the murders and all of the death."

"Yes." Will's voice was lower now.

Hannibal's eyes moved to the ceiling. "Stress manifests itself in many different ways. But there are as many relievers as stressors, and the release that comes from carnal pleasures are among the most ancient and prescribed stress-relievers known to man. Your particular stressor happens to be the very thing preventing you from relieving it."

The doctor's gaze trailed back to Will's partially aware form. "I would like to help you relieve your stress. Would you like that, Will?"

"_Yes_," Will answered, sounding almost desperate. Another smile formed on Dr. Lecter's lips.


	2. Chapter 2

"I want you to focus on the sound of my voice, only my voice. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"I will be the only one who can bring you the pleasure you need. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

Hannibal leaned back comfortably in his chair. "You are unable to masturbate because of the horrible images that fill your mind. We need to change this association. Blood has its own beauty to it, William. Death and murder are as natural as birth and living. You have convinced yourself that these things are ugly." The doctor crossed his legs. "You can never take back control of your mind until you can start to enjoy and accept all aspects of life. Fill your mind with ugly images. Keep them at a safe distance. They cannot hurt you in any way."

Will's brow furrowed, but he remained obedient. It was obvious Hannibal's instructions were followed when Will uttered a soft, pitiful sound that was something between a moan and a whimper.

"Allow them to wash over you. Listen to my voice, focus on me, Will. I'm here with you."  
Will's expression softened. Hannibal's gaze was locked on the other man's face.

"Your breath is quickening. Your heart rate is steadily rising. It feels good. You're excited... And it's good to feel excited."

Will began breathing harder, his head tilting back, his throat exposed. His adam's apple was quivering, his muscles all working together to create a reaction of excitement.

"Your skin feels cool under the surface. The sensation is chilling your skin and warming the pit of your stomach. You are becoming aroused."

Will's lips parted, his breathing was becoming ragged. Hannibal watched him with the cool composure of his profession, observing the effects of the therapy with a detached amusement. For some time he had wanted to see Will like this, so susceptible, so desperate, so terribly _open_. But Hannibal Lecter was not the sort of man to drool like the wolf who has cornered the sheep, oh no. There were steps to be taken. Hannibal did not partake of 'flings' or 'instant gratification'. This had to be calculated just-so, Will had to be broken down before he could take him. This was the first step of many.

"Don't cheapen the feeling by wanting immediate release. Let it flow inside of you, all over you. Your penis is becoming erect. Does it feel good, Will?"

"Yes," Will breathed, his body squirming slightly in his chair.

Hannibal regarded Will's groin, and took note of the growing bulge. This was going better than he expected... He hadn't been anticipating Will to be quite so eager to participate.

"Continue to breathe. Each breath is filling you with new life... Even though the images are there, in the dark corners of your mind, the pleasure is stronger. It draws energy from your most basic desires. Give in to those desires, Will."

Will's head rolled to one side, and the first in a long string of erotic moans escaped his lips. Hannibal watched the man's face carefully, marking his expressions as they changed, his brows knitted together and his mouth partially open. Hannibal could feel himself dangerously close to arousal himself, but his will was stronger than that, and he managed to tame his desires. There was still work to be done.

"Will. Would you like to be touched?" Dr. Lecter ventured, with the casual air of asking a patient if they would like to talk about their childhood. Will avidly nodded his head, and Hannibal pulled in a breath and leaned forward in his chair.

"I am touching your leg now. Can you feel it?" Hannibal said huskily. At the suggestion, Will's leg twitched, and the man let out a low groan. He clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring with his ragged breathing, and nodded softly again.

"My hand is stationary on your leg, but you can feel it's heat through your slacks, you can feel the muscles of my hand applying light pressure to you. The contact feels good. It is not the touch of a friend, it is sexual. This hand is now moving. Gliding up your thigh. Very close to your arousal."

The hypnotized profiler arched his back slightly, continuing to breathe through his nose, his hands now gripping the arms of the chair for dear life. Hannibal tilted his head.

"Tell me what you are feeling."

"I- I want more," Will choked out in a low voice, a tone one would use for their lover in the bedroom. "It feels good... Amazing,"

"That is good. You are doing very well."

Hannibal carefully coached his hypnotized patient further, slowly building him up and teasing him, his metaphorical hand gliding up Will's stomach, his chest, coming to rest on his neck and jaw before sliding back down to his abdomen. He lingered there for several moments, watching Will writhe and squirm in his seat, desperate for the contact but unable to do anything more than wait for the next suggestion. Hannibal felt he was ready.

"I grasp your arousal in my hand. Methodically, my thumb feels around your stiff manhood, before stroking you. Allow the bliss to fill your mind. Let it blot out the darkest bits of your consciousness until there is nothing left but the pleasure."

Will tossed his head back again, groaning without restraint. Hannibal couldn't help but notice how beautiful Will looked whilst in the throes of ecstasy.

"You will not come. Not now." Hannibal instructed firmly, and his patient uttered a pitiful moan of desperation. "Feel me around you. No matter how close you are, you will not find release yet. The pleasure must come first, Will."

"P-Please..." Will pleaded softly, and Hannibal couldn't contain a smile. His dear F.B.I. profiler friend was so much more in need of release than he had thought, it was a pleasant surprise.

"Too much pleasure without release can bring pain. Pain and death are very similar, in the case that one often accompanies the other. So one might say that sexual satisfaction and death have much in common, as well. The release. The beauty in death, the pain in pleasure. They are all interconnected."

The other man groaned again, and Hannibal regarded him quietly for a moment as the patient squirmed and jerked, his body so close to climax. But Hannibal couldn't let him. Not today. Not only would that be a difficult mess to explain upon waking Will up, but it would ruin the very effect he was trying to create.

Carefully, Hannibal coached his patient back down from the brink of release. It took a fair amount of time, but in the end it worked, and although William's body was no doubt sexually frustrated, the therapy had done it's work. Hannibal sat back in his seat, re-adjusted his position, and started asking Will questions about his work. It was if none of it ever happened.

* * *

Will rubbed his face with both hands, groaning as one would just after waking up. Hannibal was at his desk, making note of a few things on a notepad. "Uughh... I feel like I've been asleep for hours."

"The session was one hour, twelve minutes," the doctor assured, with a half-smile. "You were quite responsive. It all went very well."

Will glanced at his wrist watch. "I got here at nine. It's been almost two hours, hasn't it?"

Hannibal set down his pen and turned to the other man, leaning against the desk behind him. "The session itself was one hour, twelve minutes. You experienced some anxiety near the end, so I suggested that you take some time to regulate your breathing and meditate. It took nearly an hour. I will edit out that part for you."

"Edit out?"

"I mentioned that I would record the session. I'm afraid it's mandatory for this sort of therapy. I'll be mailing you a copy when it is ready." Hannibal answered.

Will rubbed his face again, and then raked his hands through his unkempt hair. "It's mandatory? So that I can make sure you didn't have me clucking like a chicken?"

Dr. Lecter chuckled through his nose. "There's that. But it's for you to listen to at home. When you are unable to sleep, listening to the recording of our session will put you into a state of meditation. The therapy can only be truly effective with consistency."

The patient let out a long sigh, and rested his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. Hannibal looked at him interestedly. "How do you feel?"

Unsure of how to answer, Will sucked in breath through his nose, and leaned back in the chair, looking at the ceiling. "Good," he said, trying to be honest. "I feel rested. I... I think I actually feel like a weight has been lifted, as ridiculous as that sounds." There was another feeling there, tingling and making his hips feel numb, but Will assumed it was from sitting in the chair without moving for so long.

"That doesn't sound ridiculous at all. The therapy can have that effect. By being in a meditative state and being honest with yourself, the process of healing can begin." Hannibal replied.

Will nodded, unable to shake the strange feeling in his loins. Everything was quiet in the office for a moment. The midday sunlight beamed through the curtains as Hannibal approached the windows, and slowly the man opened them, allowing the room to brighten and lose the relaxed ambiance from their session. Hannibal glanced out the window at the beautiful day for a moment. "I want to thank you, Will."

Squinting at the windows, the sunlight harsh on his eyes, Will frowned. "Shouldn't I be the one thanking you for your time, doctor?" he said with a chuckle, standing up and stretching. Hannibal smiled and turned toward Will. "Thank you for trusting me."

* * *

The walk back to his car was uncomfortable. Will's discomfort in his loins was still present, growing in fact, and although he hadn't had such a feeling in a long time, it was unmistakingly arousal. He was horny. He had been too embarrassed to ask Hannibal is it was a normal reaction to the therapy, for fear that it wasn't. He didn't know too much about hypnosis aside from the stage-show style mockery used for drunken college parties.

By the time Will reached his car and opened the door, the feeling was impossible to ignore. He had a full-blown erection by this time, and it was almost painfully hard. His breathing labored, Will got into the car and closed the door firmly. He rested his forehead on the steering wheel, squeezing his eyes shut. Why was this happening now? Couldn't it at least have waited until he got home? Clenching his jaw tightly, Will jammed his key in the ignition and sped away from Hannibal's residence.

He had only been driving for roughly five minutes before Will was forced to pull over along a bare dirt road and take care of his aching arousal. The feeling was overpowering, and had completely overwhelmed his senses; unable to make excellent decisions, the man had pulled over out of desperation and unzipped his pants, grabbing his organ in one trembling hand. It had been so long since he had been able to become aroused, he almost couldn't remember how to begin. Will shut his eyes and rested his head against the seat, letting his mind fall as blank as he could. There were images there, ugly, horrible pictures of crime scenes and murders and everything else that Will was forced to endure each and every day but somehow- _somehow_- they were only making him harder.

At the peak of arousal, Will didn't have the coherency to question it. He pleasured himself to the images, to the memories, to the sickness of his mind. Back arched and throat releasing sounds of primal pleasure, Will was also focused on something else- a voice- soothing him, terrifying him, leading him to his release.

The orgasm was soul-shattering and messy. Will Graham sat in his car, his breathing akin to having run a marathon, his seed splattered on his shirt and hand, warm and sticky.

In the afterglow, it was hard to panic. But the realization was still there, and he could still hear the voice of Hannibal Lecter in his mind clearly, as if the man was sitting next to him.


	3. Chapter 3

Two days had passed since Will Graham's first hypnotherapy session. He hadn't spoken to Hannibal since then. He had been very busy with work- Jack had him working on a series of murders out of state- but mostly he had been confused about what exactly the therapy had done to him. His 'episode' in the car after the session had him feeling incredibly uncomfortable, and he had been doing his best to put the incident out of his mind.

The day he returned home from the session, he had searched online and through any books he had that mentioned hypnotherapy for a possible answer to why he would have felt the way he felt.

Unfortunately, his books proved useless, and the internet even more so. All he could find were links to 'erotic hypnosis', which obviously wasn't going to help him. After an hour or so of pouring through useless information and videos of unconvincing hypnotists at parties, Will gave up.

Will returned to his home in Wolf Trap after a tiring day of inspecting bodies and brainstorming with Jack about the possible motives for the killer to find a yellow envelope in his mailbox with only Will's name scrawled on the front in impossibly perfect handwriting.

Will almost didn't remember what it could have been, before it struck him that Hannibal had once again agreed to feed his dogs while he was away, and that this must have been the recording of their session Hannibal had mentioned.

He let his dogs out and tossed the envelope on the table of the dining room, leaving it there while he put his coat away and let his dogs excitedly greet him, as they always did. He wasn't sure if he even wanted to open the envelope at this point, but Hannibal's words were seared into his mind. The therapy wouldn't work without consistency.

At this point, however, Will wasn't sure he _wanted _the therapy to work.

* * *

2:46 am.

Will blinked at the clock, amazed that he could lay in bed for so long without realizing it. The time was passing by so quickly; one moment he felt as though he had just closed his eyes, the next minute, a couple of hours had passed in a single, restless blink. He wasn't sure if he was losing time or simply slipping in and out of sleep. Will sighed deeply and covered his eyes with his forearm.

His thoughts floated to the sealed envelope that was still laying on his table. Hannibal's words tirelessly cycled in his mind; promises of a better night's sleep, an escape from stress. The hypnosis had lessened his feeling of stress considerably the first day, and after returning home from his confusing roadside experience, he had somehow gotten a full ten hours of refreshingly restful sleep. That was the thought that had him hesitant.

3:13am. He could only hold out for so long. He _needed _sleep. He may as well give it a shot. Who was around to judge him? His dogs?

Will escaped bed to grab the envelope, and opened it hastily. Their session had been burned onto a CD, and Will's stomach instantly fell. Will didn't listen to music. He had no CD player, anywhere in his house. Perhaps he should have thought he might need one for this purpose.

Sighing, Will felt around in the envelope, suspecting there was more inside. Sure enough, a neatly written note fell out into Will's hand.

_I suspected you would not have a CD player. I have left one for you next to the front window. You may bring it back to me whenever I next see you, unless you would like to borrow it for further use._

_H. Lecter_

Despite himself, a smile jerked at Will's mouth. He looked up at the small table near the window, and sitting there as neatly and as conspicuous as if Hannibal had just set it down 30 seconds ago, a small CD player sat, headphones already attached.

Returning to his room, careful not to wake his dogs, Will got back into bed, the sheets having cooled in his absence. Fumbling with the CD and player like a caveman, Will finally managed to get it playing. Trying to get himself as comfortable as possible, he slipped the earbuds in and sucked in an enormous breath, letting it out slowly. Nothing strange was going to happen... This was going to help him sleep. He pressed play.

The session began playing. Will closed his eyes, listening to the beginning to the hypnosis. He nearly let it continue before realizing that he hadn't yet heard any part of the session. If he listened to the beginning, he would most likely be out as quickly as he was in Hannibal's office; Will pressed pause, and skipped further into the session.

"_- about a typical day. What kinds of things do you expect to see?"_

_"Death. Murder. Insanity."_

_"Those are very powerful things, Will. How do you steel yourself, why do you keep looking?"_

_"It's worse when I don't look. My mind turns against me."_

Will almost couldn't believe how talkative he was when under the hypnosis. He had thought he knew what to expect, but hearing his words spoken as if by another mouth altogether frightened him considerably. Still, the therapy had clearly had a positive effect of some kind, even if it was unorthodox.

_"Your imagination overflows."_

"_Yes."_

"_Then you might say that the death, the murder, the insanity you see each day save you from yourself."_

"_..."_

Something was happening. Will let out a barely audible groan, adjusting his position and pulling the covers away. To his horror, he was becoming aroused. It was just like what had happened in the car, only...

_"Will? Are you alright?"_

"_...Yes."_

Only it was much worse. Will covered himself up again, desperately trying to think of what to do. Why was this happening again? Was it the therapy? There was no other explanation. Regardless of the reason, Will was hard within seconds.

"_Tell me what you're feeling, Will."_

_"I... Feel like maybe I'm surrounding myself with death and ugliness so that I can ignore the ugliness inside myself."_

Did he really feel that way about himself? Will's mind was becoming hazy as he listened to the session, feeling confusion and arousal and other emotions he wasn't ready to deal with at the moment. His hand snaked it's way down his own stomach as if on auto-pilot, touching the hem of his boxers.

_"We all have ugliness inside of us, Will. But you are much more than that."_

Overcome with a nameless desire, Will slipped his hand into his boxers. He moaned in a low voice, stifling the sound into his pillow. All rational thought was gone. The idea that he was pleasuring himself to the sound of his own hypnotherapy session with his psychiatrist and friend was irrelevant. It felt so _good_, so utterly frightening, and his senses were overrun with lust.

"_I can help you overcome the darkness that has you. If you let me guide you, I can help relieve the stress, the burden you feel. Would you like that, Will?"_

_"Y-Yes..."_

Will could hardly notice that his own hypnotized voice had cracked with an almost desperate inflection. His hand was working furiously, his arousal pulsing and begging for a release. Face pressed in his pillow to suppress his moans, Will's mind was bleary and unfocused, and what was left of his clarity was being used to time his strokes and listen for Dr. Lecter's voice.

_"To do this, you must be completely honest with me, and completely honest with yourself. You can no longer deny yourself the things you want based on the idea that life is too ugly or too bloody."_

_"I... Want..."_

"Nng," Will groaned, his back arching, his free hand gripping the bed sheets. He didn't know what he wanted. All he knew right now, was that he wanted _this_. It didn't have to make sense. His mind was reeling with thoughts and sounds and sensations, but Dr. Lecter's voice seemed to be at the center of it all, seeing him from the inside and telling him what to do and how to feel. None of it felt real, except for this feeling of sex, of release. Will felt like he was tipping head-long into an abyss of beautiful death, and somehow it felt _right_.

_"I... Want... Release,"_

Will's voice on the recording was so low it was almost a whisper, and it was completely drowned out by the moans and ruffling of the sheets as the man writhed erratically in pleasure. The recording had gone thoughtfully silent, and Will groaned in painful anticipation for that damn voice, the silky voice of his doctor and his friend, without which he would stay precariously at the very edge of climax. In the twisted, heated state of his mind, he knew that only that voice could give him what he wanted.

_"And you shall have it."_

Stuffing his face into his pillow, Will cried out pathetically, feeling hot jets of semen hit his stomach and leg. Body twitching and convulsing, Will bit his pillow hard as the waves of pleasure hit him like a relentless tide; this orgasm was much more powerful and long-lasting than the one previous, but Will had no time to dissect the events that had transpired, nor dwell on their source. Within seconds, despite trying his best to stay conscious, Will's mind fell into blissful blackness.

* * *

Going to Alana Bloom was not an option.

What was he to say? _'I need to talk to you about the fact that I have suddenly become incredibly sexually aroused by Dr. Lecter's voice, as a result of our extremely unorthodox hypnotherapy sessions. Any advice?_'

The mere thought of telling anyone about this made Will want to find a corner and stay there forever. This was more than a problem, this was, it was... Sick. Twisted. Possibly insane.

_Perverted_.

Practically two weeks had gone by since his first hypnotherapy session, and since that time, he had lost track of how many times he had pleasured himself to the recording. So many times he had tried to throw the CD away, but every time he stopped himself.

There was no one he could talk to about this. Under normal circumstances, if there was something wrong with him and there was no one in the world he felt he could trust, he would tell Hannibal. But the thought of telling Hannibal about this made him sick to his stomach. More than that, it made him feel ashamed.

Still, he he had an appointment to keep. Will thought that at the very least, he could attempt to gain some insight from Hannibal about the subject in a discreet manner.

He was greeted as always by Dr. Lecter in the waiting room, and he allowed himself to be ushered into the office. It was difficult making eye-contact of any kind with the man, but fortunately for him, that was nothing new.

It didn't take long for Hannibal to surmise that something was wrong. Well, more wrong than usual.

"Is everything alright, Will?" Hannibal asked, a flicker of concern on his face. The sound of Hannibal's voice caused Will's skin to crawl with heat and discomfort.

Will forced a smile and nodded, removing his jacket and putting it in the usual place. "I've been sleeping really well lately," Will said honestly, intentionally dodging the question. "Being well-rested has really been helping me focus on everything else."

"I know," Hannibal countered, sticking his hands in his pockets and watching Will closely from across the room. "I can see you look much healthier. Which is why I am asking; you appear physically well, but you seem on edge. Tell me what's on your mind."

Will laughed dryly, feeling his face grow hot. Hannibal had caught on entirely too quickly, and Will felt he was in imminent danger of confiding in his friend, even at the risk of humiliation. "Nothing really, it's just-" Will paused, groping around for the correct phrasing, "- the hypnotherapy."

"Yes?"

"Are there any side-effects?" he asked, almost instantly regretting it. Hannibal gave him a steady gaze, openly probing Will's expression. "It is not a medication, Will. The only side-effects I can imagine would be relaxation, or a heightened sense of self-awareness. What kinds of side-effects are you interested in?"

Will looked away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "It's just that, we had been talking before about psychic driving, and the effect it might have had on Abel Gideon if-"

"Psychic driving is a method that needs to be used continuously over a substantial amount of time to have any effect," Hannibal said, causing Will to fall uncomfortably silent. "A phrase or an idea must be implanted into the subject's mind. We've only had one hypnotherapy session together, Will, and you have the recording."

"I know, I know... I didn't mean to imply that you- -I'm sorry," Will said, red-faced and feeling foolish. Hannibal watched Will with a stony expression.

"A patient who is hypnotized is only as hypnotized as they wish to be," Hannibal said, walking closer to Will. "It becomes a meditative state in which you have full control over what you do and what you say. I am merely the guide for that process. We become who we want to be, and we simply allow our subconscious to lead us to our desires."

Desires? Did that mean... Will nearly felt himself stop breathing, and suddenly the office seemed incredibly warm. "So, even though I don't remember any of it, I was still in control?" Will asked far too quietly. Hannibal tilted his head in interest. "Will. What side-effect were you asking me about?"

Will sighed and looked down, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment in silence. Hannibal was patient with him, and gave him plenty of time to collect his thoughts.

"Ever since the session," Will started barely audibly, "I've been... Getting aroused."

Hannibal looked away thoughtfully. "More than is usual?" he asked.

Will couldn't have been more embarrassed if he was standing there naked. "You could say that," he responded with a hint of humor.

Hannibal's brows knitted together in the way they usually did when he was thinking of every possible solution. "This doesn't sound like anything you need to be worried about, Will." Hannibal said, and Will managed to look up and meet the other man's eyes, only fleetingly. "You are sleeping well. You responded very well to the therapy. It is only natural that your body would take additional action to stay relaxed. Arousal is merely a sign of a healthy mind." he said easily.

Will only felt slightly better. Since it was all out there, he figured he may as well continue.

"Except... It's the _therapy itself_ that does it," Will said, turning away from Hannibal and wandering to the familiar statue of a buck that sat atop a small pillar. Hannibal was silent behind him for a moment. "The session, yours and mine, causes arousal?" Will nearly groaned in humiliation. It was more than that, and he knew it. _It was his voice._ HIS voice, Hannibal Lecter's voice that was putting him over the edge every single time. But he simply couldn't bring himself to divulge that last piece of information.

Will merely nodded his head, placing a hand on the statue in front of him gently.

"Will," Hannibal's voice was closer now, he must have moved forward. Will could feel the hair on the back of his next stand up, as if there was electricity in the air. "You should have talked to me about this sooner."

Will choked out a laugh, and shook his head. "I wasn't going to tell you _at all_. This is a whole new kind of crazy, I didn't want to add it to my list of issues."

"You should have told me sooner so that I could have assured you that nothing is wrong with you," Hannibal corrected himself, and Will mulled over the words for a moment, and then dared to turn his head slightly to see the man. Dr. Lecter intentionally caught the man's eyes and followed them purposefully, holding Will's awkward gaze.

"This is not so unusual. We made so many breakthroughs that day, I should have warned you. Patients often experience suppressed emotions and sensations after this sort of therapy, sometimes in spades. And the recording of the session would only continue to ignite those suppressions. If anything, Will, this just means that the therapy is working better than I hoped it would."

Will was unbelieving. He had almost expected Hannibal to start referring him to another psychiatrist. He wasn't a pervert? This was something that happened to normal people? Will looked as relieved as he felt, and he turned to face Hannibal, letting out a long-lingering breath.

"So this is normal? I'm not... There's nothing wrong with me?" he asked, and Hannibal smiled in response. "Nothing at all. But I would like to try it again with you, to help break the association and relocate it to the appropriate places in your life."

"Yeah, that sounds…" Will shook his head and let out an obviously relieved sigh. "I mean, sure. If it's working, if this is normal, I want to keep going," he said, perhaps a little too eagerly.

Hannibal smiled at him, and Will missed the flicker of predatory majesty that had burned behind his eyes for a slightest of seconds.

"How about now?" Hannibal asked.


End file.
